


The Taste of a Nightmare

by Maplemind



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Nightmares, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Nightmares, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 00:09:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17908310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maplemind/pseuds/Maplemind
Summary: Steve is woken by Bucky hesitantly seeking refuge after a nightmare.





	The Taste of a Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> A very short little drabble, unbeta'd, apologies for any mistakes!

Steve wasn’t what you’d call a light sleeper; more perpetually aware of his surroundings even in sleep. He supposed it came from fighting through the war, camped out in the open air with only his Howling Commandos to watch his back.

So it was no surprise that he was awake and knew who the intruder was from the moment his bedroom door silently opened. The “trying-to-be-quiet” footsteps of a former brainwashed killing machine were also a dead giveaway, but the hesitant pause beside the bed was an advance warning Steve would never need from his closest friend. Without even opening his eyes, he shuffled himself to the other side of the bed and held up the covers, dropping them only when the other man was safely ensconced inside. Steve allowed his arm to settle close enough to Bucky that he could feel the prickle along his skin from the close proximity, but without taking the liberty of touching.

“Nightmare?” The blond’s voice was a whisper in the dark.

“… Yeah.” The response barely audible.

“Wanna talk about it?” Steve’s head tilted in the direction of his friend.

“… They took you. To replace me coz I got away. They made me watch.” There was a catch in his voice, and a roughness not usually present; evidence of sobs, or shock-induced-vomiting. Perhaps both. Steve refused to think too deeply about it.

Steve breathed a heavy sigh - another variation of the same old nightmare. The mind can be a person’s own worst enemy. Ingrained response led him to almost-subconsciously roll onto his side, feeling his bed-fellow’s breath ghosting over his face at the closeness. His hands found Bucky’s under the covers, and he pulled the metal one into his firm grip as he tugged the flesh palm until it was pressed flat against his chest - directly over his powerful heart.

There was no need for words, as the minutes passed and Steve heard his friend’s breathing gradually even out, metal grip going slack in his grasp. The flesh hand, however, never left his chest. Steve himself slept most peacefully on the nights Bucky was close - safe.

When he woke the next morning, it was to ocean-blue eyes assessing his face. Neither felt the need to express their gratitude, a nod exchanged before the former assassin gave the smallest, purest smile and slipped from bed, padding quietly out of the room.


End file.
